Ava looked at the phone as if Karma had just burped her alphabet into it. “What does that even mean?”
“Ava, you’re going to have to help him. You need fire. Like matches or a grill lighter.
Quickly.”
Ava set the phone down, ready to race downstairs to the kitchen, but Cale grabbed her hand.
“No,” he said between clenched teeth. “Don’t leave me.”
Ava tried to pry his fingers loose, but he just grabbed onto the hem of her shirt, desperation in his eyes, his breathing even faster, like he was choking on something.
“Ava, please, don’t leave me,” he said. “You don’t understand.”
It sounded like he might cry. Still clutching her shirt, he pulled her closer, resting his head back against the floor because he couldn’t bear to lift it anymore, but refusing to loosen his grip.
“Miriam,” Ava called. “Can you get the grill lighter from the kitchen? As fast as you can.”
It was clear that Miriam didn’t want to leave the relative safety of the room, but she took a look at Cale and gathered her courage. She
scurried down the stairs and Ava listened as she rummaged through the kitchen drawers. She padded back up and into the room in under a minute.
“Okay, I have the lighter.
Now what?” Ava asked Karma.
“This may sound crazy to you, Ava, but I need you to light the fire and hold it to Cale’s skin. Start as far as you see the poison stretching, then move closer and closer to the wound, as if you’re chasing the poison back to where it started.”
“You…
want
me to light him on fire?”
“Yes. He won’t ignite and the fire won’t hurt him. But if the poison reaches his core, he’ll die, Ava.”
Light him on fire.
Ava almost laughed at the ludicrousness of the request. “I can’t do that, Karma.”
Cale’s grip on her shirt relaxed a bit, but not because he was ready to let her go.
Because it was getting harder for him to see, to move, to hold on. His skin paled. Ava reached out and touched his forehead. It was ice cold.
She hung up the cell
phone. “Cale, this sounds crazy insane to me, but I’ve seen some crazy things tonight. If you’re still in your right mind…I guess, I just need to know if this what you want me to do.”
“
Yes.,” he said, barely squeezing his words out. “If you think you can”
Insane.
These people are insane.
But Ava took a deep breath and pushed her thumb against the lighter so that the tip of it burst into flame. She looked over at Miriam for reassurance, but her foster mother was just as wide-eyed as Ava. Finally, Ava moved the lighter until the flame danced against Cale’s skin. The curling purple ink froze in place, then began to shrink away from the heat.
Cale bit his lip, trying to keep from shouting. Ava stopped, pulling away instantly.
“I’m hurting you,” she said in shock. She shook her head. “I can’t do this.”
Suddenly, it was all too much.
The terrifying creatures, the decapitations, the poison, the fire. Tears clouded her vision. “I think I’m losing my mind.”
Cale forced his eyes to stay open. “I promise I’ll die if you don’t.” His speech was beginning to slur.
He reached out and put a shaky hand around Ava’s ankle. He did the same to Miriam, forgetting about politeness or boundaries.
“Cover my mouth,” he said to Miriam.
She looked at Ava, bewildered. Ava bit her lip, studying the boy on her bedroom floor. If he was right, if he did die, it would be her fault. It would be because of her cowardice.
“Just do what he says, Miriam,” Ava said.
So Miriam placed her hand over Cale’s mouth. Ava lit the lighter again and pressed it to the poison. It recoiled, moving away from the flame as Ava chased it, slowly, carefully. It reminded her of the shadows at the feet of the creatures, but instead of letting the fear take over, Ava pictured Cale slicing through them, like they were pathetic, like they were nothing to be afraid of.
Cale screamed into Miriam’s hand, squeezing the circulation out of the ladies’ legs while Ava worked. Finally, the poison was nothing but a pool of dark purple settled into the gash in
his abdomen. Ava let the flame rest there until the poison hissed away completely.
Unbelievable.
The longer she left the flame on Cale’s skin once the poison was gone, the faster it healed, right before her eyes. His flesh knitted together until he relaxed, letting go of them, closing his eyes in relief. It was soothing to him. Like medicine. He breathed normally at last, and even his sweat began to dry up.
“Ava?” It was Karma at the front door.
“We’re upstairs,” Ava called.
Karma was in her room remarkably fast, Rory right beside her with a weapon drawn, the same dark blade as Cale’s,
five times as long as Ava’s pocket knife. Karma took in the situation, eyes covering the room in a slow, thorough sweep while Rory’s eyes darted from object to object. Karma walked to Cale’s side, touching the scar on his midsection. That was all that was left. A thick, white scar, like a smashed spider. Karma touched his forehead, a surprising lack of affection in her clinical hands. Then she studied Ava’s and Miriam’s faces to make sure they weren’t masking pain.
Her tepid smile played at her mouth. “You did very well, Ava. You have our thanks.”
Rory came over. “He’s alright?”
“A little
rest, and he’ll be himself by the morning.”
Rory was all business–
not the laughing, romping brother Ava had met at dinner. “Three at once,” he said. “Did they call you by name, Ava?”
Ava couldn’t remember. “I don’t think I was listenin
g to what they were saying. You–you know what they were?”
“Sirens,” Rory said. He held up the necklaces they left behind.
“I’ve never seen these before, Mom. Have you?”
“I have not.
I’ll have to do some research.” She examined them with a furrowed brow. “These are strange. Sirens don’t usually stray from tradition, and acrest is unlike them. And to have three wearing them all of a sudden.”
“They looked like vampires,” Ava said, recalling the fangs that had threatened to close in on her. “I think one tried to bite me.”
Rory nodded matter-of-factly. “Yep. Nightfolk, merfolk, werefolk. They’re all sirens. All scum.” He spit on the ground in disgust.
“But…
one of them sang to me. It was….” Terrifying. Haunting.
Beautiful.
“A siren’s tear did this,” Karma said, ignoring Ava. She ran her hand over Cale’s scar again. He was sleeping peacefully, taking deep, full breaths. “But I’ve never seen the poison spread so quickly. It usually takes days before it reaches a dragon’s core.”
Dragons.
There it is again.
Sirens, nightfolk, dragons. Ava was dizzy, fighting nausea. It wasn’t real.
None of this stuff is real
.
“Put up a perimeter, Rory,
then let’s get your brother home.”
Rory nodded,
then slid the blade he was carrying against his fingers. He didn’t even wince as he did it. He went to Ava’s windows and door and wiped his fingers across the windowsills and doorframe, leaving bright red blood along the clean, white wood.
He lifted his brother up and put him over his shoulder like Cale didn’t weigh a thing. He wiped his hands along the banister and covered the entrance to the house on his way out. The lock on the front door was little more than splinters. Cale hadn’t thought about sparing the fix
tures when he kicked it down.
Ava and Miriam followed them to the minivan parked outside. Rory laid Cale in the backseat,
then took a lighter out of his pocket and held his fingers to the fire. The flames licked his incision until the cut disappeared completely. He got into the passenger side and closed the doors so hard Ava jumped. He looked straight ahead, his jaw clenched. A puff of smoke escaped his nostrils.
“Don’t mind him,” Karma said. “He’s just angry someone got to one of our own. He’ll calm down eventually.” She put a cool hand on Ava’s shoulder, but the gesture seemed strained, almost unnatural. “Your mother might need some time to cope, and you’ll need some rest after tonight. But don’t worry. You’ll be safe under the dragonblood.” She smiled. “You have my number and Cale’s. Call us if you need us. Or just stop by.” She put the necklaces into her pants pocket. “I’ll figure out what happened here tonight as soon as I can.” Then she got into the driver’s seat and they pulled away.
Ava stood in the driveway for what seemed like years. Then she looked over to Miriam, whose big blue eyes were already glued to Ava’s face. Ava couldn’t tell if she was afraid or awed. Her thoughts had all stalled, refusing to let her analyze what had happened.
“I did not expect tonight,” Ava said at last.
“Not at all.”
***
Ava stood in the kitchen, her feet planted in place as she studied the floor. When she’d seen the sirens there a few hours before, their legs had been covered in writhing shadows. The house was dark as Ava recreated the scene. She walked over to the staircase, where she’d been crouching right before the creatures spotted her. Then, up the stairs to her bedroom. She lay down on the ground, right where she’d been when the second creature pinned her down. She closed her eyes and imagined its fangs spreading wide, ready to sink into her.
She tried to r
emember the song it sang, but the memory seemed so far away, as if that part of her nightmarish encounter had happened years before, separate from the rest of the hellish events. She remembered feeling waves of awe and sadness. She remembered never wanting the song to end. But she couldn’t hear it. And once it was over, she never wanted to hear it again.
Ava sat up and sighed.
I should be terrified
. She got up and examined the pool of blood that had soaked into the carpet where Cale nearly died. The lighter was still lying on its side. She remembered pressing it to his skin, his eyes locked onto hers, the trust she saw in him.
It was real. It all happened.
She forced herself to examine her thoughts, to explore the reasons why her heart was picking up its pace. It was real.
He’s real.
Ava hurried downstairs and grabbed the keys to Miriam’s car from the hook near the front door. She knew
even Miriam wasn’t allowed to drive it unless Jim gave her permission–technically, it was his car under his name–but for once, Ava didn’t care. There was no way she was going to wake T up and ask for a ride, no way she was going to answer all his questions. She had someplace to be.
She knocked on the Anders’ door, her knuckles colliding sharply with the heavy oak. Karma opened the door, still showing no hint of surprise
on her perfect face, and motioned for her to come in.
“I’m sorry it’s so late,” Ava said.
“No apologies necessary,” Karma answered. “Cameron and I rarely sleep, and when we do it’s just for a short time. It’s nice to have a diversion.”
Ava rubbed her arms, fighting off a shiver. The house was colder than it had been earlier, almost chilly. Karma disappeared into the coat closet and returned with a cream sweater. Ava shrugged it on gratefully.
“Red dragons are like heaters,” she explained. “When they’re all asleep, it’s finally cool enough for Cameron and me to be productive. And you’ve given us a lot to ponder tonight.”
Ava reached up and patted her own head, realizing that she’d forgotten to groom herself. Her hair stood out in a giant mess of crazy brown curls. She hadn’t even showered or changed her clothes since the incident. Splatters of Cale’s blood mixed with the remnants of the monsters’ left red and purple splotches on the top she wore underneath Karma’s sweater.
“Dragons, huh?” Ava bit her fingernail. “Cale was trying to talk to me about that stuff earlier and I blew him off. I feel like a jerk.”
Because I
am
a jerk.
“Are you here to see him, then?”
Ava felt silly suddenly.
Why didn’t I just call instead?
She had been reckless coming all the way over to the Anders house at one in the morning. But she had seemed so sure of her actions when she was carrying them out. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in her mind when she first left home. She tried to remember the reason her logic had been so steadfast.
“Those things tried to kill me,” she said, stating the obvious. She needed reassurance, confirmation that she wasn’t crazy.
“Yes. Generally, sirens only hunt and kill when they are jealous. Do you have a close relationship with someone in your home? If they sensed that bond, they might have reacted negatively.”
Jim?
It made Ava want to throw up.
Miriam?
Ava loved her but she wouldn’t call their relationship close at all. It was strained in so many ways. Ava could never sympathize with her foster mother’s actions, or lack thereof.
Who would be jealous of that?
“Any close relationships at all, Ava, even outside of the home?”